Lesson #3 from an arthropod – cleanliness

PROLOGUE: For previous arthropodic lessons and why in hell I know scads of outwardly-useless-yet-inwardly-enthralling shit about insects, read Lesson #1 and Lesson #2.

TRUTH: Believe it or not, beetles are the most Darwinistically correct animal on the planet.

Not humans.

Not Asians.

Not Republicans.

Beetles.

How could I come to such a ridiculous conclusion, you naïvely inquire? Because one of every five living species is a beetle (plants included), and one fourth of all animals are beetles. They have survived and adapted to human infestation better than humans have. They are the dominant form of life on Earth. This is indisputable. So question me not.

That being said, for today’s exhilarating lesson on tidiness, we’re only concerned with one animal of the order Coleoptera: the hide beetle (yes, insects are indeed animals—deal with it and move on).

(Dermestes maculatus, our beloved flesh-eater)

In the layman’s world, hide beetles are seen as pests and nothing more. As mature larvae, they bore into and weaken soft wooden building material, such as posts, studs and rafters. Not to piss off humans, mind you, but rather because the hide beetle’s express purpose in life is to break down dead matter (well that, and to procreate more hide beetles, which they’re also very good at). We just happen to be in the way.

You may not appreciate this skill, but others sure do. If you’re, say, a museum scientist, a taxidermist or you work in a forensic lab, hide beetles are cherished creatures.

Their proclivity for dead animal matter is a wondrous benefit to natural history museums, which exhibit animal skeletons. Why? Because better than any technological invention or chemical cleaning method, the hide beetle strips dead tissue off the skeletons until the bones are sparkling clean, while preserving the integrity of the bone and collagen so they can be studied.

(my, what a tidy-looking horse skeleton. Thanks, Dermestids)

Plus, hide beetles are the only beetle with the enzymes necessary for breaking down keratin, a protein component of hair (so if you’re balding and worried about it, it’s probably best not to stick your head into a pile of hungry hide beetles). Across the world, natural history museums rear hide beetles for these express purposes, keeping them in climate-controlled rooms called dermestariums.

However, because the beetles will eat virtually anything in their path (much like some people I know), they have to be kept under tight security, well away from the museum’s collections of stuffed animals and skins.

Of course, there are others who exploit the hide beetles’ clean plate syndrome for their profit as well. Take Skulls Unlimited International, one of the world’s leading suppliers of osteological specimens including skulls and skeletons. A whole division of their business is devoted to bone cleaning with hide beetles. Like this very creepy photo:

(the better to eat you with, my dear)

So next time you find yourself gently caressing a slick, well-groomed skeleton, be sure to thank your flesh-eating beetle brethren for doing what they were put on this earth to do. They’re pretty darn useful, which is more than most of us can say.

07.21.2010 "Big," Macy Gray. For anyone seeking another Macy Gray album on par with "On How Life Is," look no further. Though not as instantly catchy, with repeated listenings it's simply euphoric. "Big" showcases Macy's highly under-appreciated wordsmithery, her peerless phrasing and that otherworldly helium voice—the most engaging and expressive female voice I've heard since Nina Simone.

02.18.2011 “Return to the Sea,” Islands. Following the brilliant, short, happy life of Montreal indie rock band The Unicorns and their gem, “Who Will Cut Our Hair When We’re Gone?” frontman Nick Diamonds and drummer J’aime Tambeur emerged from the ashes to form Islands—and one of the more compellingly quirky, epic, sprawling and distinctive albums known to man.

09.15.2011 "Fuzzy" and "Mighty Joe Moon," Grant Lee Buffalo. Part Wilco, part Eddie Vedder, part Elliott Smith. And yet, completely original. Why more people haven’t heard Grant Lee Buffalo is a crime against good taste. Two of the best albums of the ‘90s right here, masterfully written, voiced and shredded by Grant-Lee Phillips.

12.7.2011 "Mr. Wizard," R.L. Burnside. If this old school, north Mississippi juke joint bluesman doesn't (at the very least) get your head a-bobbin' or toe a-tappin', then you're fucked—because you have no soul. That's a fact. Burnside, a toothless, badass septuagenarian who's now passed away, shreds Mississippi Delta blues—right when it turned electric. Saw him in concert back in 2001, and it was easily one of the top 3 shows I've ever had the privilege to attend.